


Angels and Skylines Meet

by femmebot



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Character Death, Happy Ending, Inspired by Real Events, M/M, Sad, kinda???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-23 21:43:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21088295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femmebot/pseuds/femmebot
Summary: Running into your ex is sometimes worse than one can imagine.





	Angels and Skylines Meet

**Author's Note:**

> title from fleurie’s [breathe](https://youtu.be/JQVop3-OOXc)!

Chanhee struts down a crowded alley, beaming as the chill Parisian air numbs his face. It’s getting dark, but he has no intention of going back to his lonely hotel room just yet.

He pulls out his phone to check the time. It reads 6:43PM, but the tenuous sunlight says otherwise. He locks his phone and unlocks it again, the numbers suddenly changing to 9:32. He brushes it off as something unimportant and continues his stroll.

Chanhee admires the breathtaking Haussmanian buildings, wondering how and when he even got to Paris in the first place, but paying it no mind in the end. He must enjoy this to the fullest. He is in Paris, after all. 

Something catches Chanhee’s eye. Something odd that stands out in plain sight. He spots his favorite bakery from his hometown located in between all the traditional French buildings, breaking the pattern. He thinks it might have grown, becoming a famous store worldwide or something of the sort. Giving no thought to it, he walks into the shop.

The smell of freshly baked pastries from his childhood makes him feel warm and welcome, and everything suddenly seems familiar. After staring at the copious sweets displayed behind the glass for some minutes, he finds his favorite dessert from when he was a kid and buys it with no hesitation. 

Chanhee is walking out of the bakery, pastry still hot in his hands, and about to take a first bite of the vanilla flavored croissant when he stops dead in his tracks.

The strength in his body vanishes and everything becomes white noise, only disrupted by the faint rumbling of the traffic. 

“Y-Younghoon...?” Chanhee’s voice quivers, eyes filling with tears.

Chanhee stares at Younghoon intensely. He looks the same as the last time he saw him, only his eyebags have grown with age and his hair is dyed a bright shade of red. He’s wearing a leather jacket and the matching ring he had with Chanhee is still sitting on his ring finger. The latter gasps and feels his stomach sink the moment he sees the silver band.

“Hey, Chanhee,” Younghoon replies briefly. “It’s been a long time, huh?” 

“Five years and eight months,” the younger specifies. “You still have our ring,” he says, pointing to his right hand. Younghoon just nods and grins in reply.

“Oh,” Younghoon points to the beautiful, blonde woman standing quietly beside him that Chanhee hadn’t noticed before. “This is my girlfriend, Jeanette.”

Chanhee’s teary smile slowly fades away as he takes a look at the woman, whose face he can’t quite discern, except for the pearly white smile she shoots in his direction. He feels his whole world crumbling to his feet all over again. And then he remembers why he and Younghoon cut ties.

“Younghoon, you died. The doctor said you didn’t make it,” Chanhee says hopelessly. 

“Oh... I did make it. I’m alive,” Younghoon argues, his stupid grin still plastered on his face.

“B-but... I saw your body, Younghoon. I attended your funeral... I hugged your mom...” the younger begins full-on sobbing. He drops the pastry in his hands and waddles towards his ex-boyfriend with his arms stretched out, asking for a hug. 

“I’m here now,” Younghoon replies. He reciprocates the embrace, holding Chanhee tight and stroking his thin, soft hair. Chanhee continues weeping into his clavicle.

“Please, come back. I miss you. Come with me. Back to Seoul. Our cat misses you too,” Chanhee begs, the anguish in his voice almost palpable, unable to hide his suffering. “I love you so much.”

“I’m here, Chanhee. Can’t you hear me? I’m here now. I’m here,” Younghoon replies monotonically. “I’m here. Listen to me. I’m here now. I’m here. I’m here.”

Chanhee begins to notice something strange in Younghoon’s voice. It sounds familiar, but it’s not Younghoon’s. And that’s not the weirdest part, as the elder keeps repeating the same phrase over and over again like a robot. 

Chanhee looks up at him. Younghoon’s face doesn’t move as he speaks. 

“Chanhee, wake up.”

* * *

Chanhee opens his eyes to the dim light of the nightstand lamp. He looks around the room. It’s his usual appartment in Seoul. Not a hotel room in Paris.

“You were crying outloud and thrashing around so I woke you up,” Sangyeon says as he walks into their bedroom with a glass of water.

“It was him again,” Chanhee informs his current boyfriend. He grabs the glass and chugs it down in a single go. Immediately after that, he breaks down in tears.

Sangyeon scoots over to him and lets the boy latch onto him, well acquainted with Chanhee’s needs in situations of this kind. The younger cries it all out, smiling frailly when Sangyeon attaches his lips to his cheek and pulls away with a loud smack. 

Chanhee’s—and Younghoon’s—cat jumps on the bed and nudges the boy’s side with her head, aware of his pain. Chanhee giggles and pets her, eliciting purrs from the white animal, who decides his feet are the perfect place to sleep on.

Sangyeon gets into bed with Chanhee again, spooning him and pressing his bare chest to the smaller boy’s sweaty back. 

“I miss him,” Chanhee confesses.

“I know,” his boyfriend replies.

“I still love him.”

“I know,” he repeats.

“Does that bother you?” Chanhee asks timidly.

“No.” Sangyeon answers in a firm tone.

“I love you.” Chanhee whispers.

“I love you too.” Sangyeon presses a chaste kiss to the top of Chanhee’s head and turns off the light. “So much.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is based off a dream my aunt had about her deceased husband (what would she say if she found out her nephew wrote gay fanfiction inspired by it...)


End file.
